


Imaginaerum

by FarAwayInWonderland



Series: Imaginaerum [2]
Category: Suits (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Magic, Alternate Universe - Urban Fantasy, M/M, Magical Mike Ross, sort of slavery
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-14
Updated: 2016-10-29
Packaged: 2018-04-04 09:49:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,749
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4133010
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FarAwayInWonderland/pseuds/FarAwayInWonderland
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mike just wanted to become a lawyer. Harvey however pushed him down the rabbit hole and now he had to deal with fae, dwarves, elves and their legal problems. All the while he still had to hide his own magic in the mundane world out of fear that the government would discover him. It was a difficult balancing act and every stumble could spell his death for war was brewing between the magical races and Mike was right in the middle of it. Nothing is what it seems, everything is allowed and behind every sweet smile is a dagger waiting to be plunged into your back when you´re not looking.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Orphanage Airlines

**Author's Note:**

> Say hello to me on [tumblr.](http://specter-und-ross.tumblr.com/)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “We are the orphans of this city,” the boy explained, the smile never leaving his face. “We have been lost and forgotten by all the dwellers above. We wandered these realms until we came here and now we make sure that no one else will ever be lost and forgotten like we were.”
> 
> Song to listen to: ["Orphanage Airlines"](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6rq3ZHtuwOU) by Nightwish.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As of yet unbetaed. English isn´t my mother language, therefore there may be some mistakes.
> 
> I tried to research as much as possible. Because it has been some time since I last saw Suits, please excuse any discrepancy between my story and the series.

The only light that illuminated the tiny cell came from the light bulb on the ceiling.

It wasn’t much. A sickly yellow light that didn’t even reach the corners of the cell and thus only made everything feel even more restricted. Sometimes the light flickered and turned the whole room into darkness.

That were the moments the prisoner feared the most. When there was nothing but blackness and he couldn’t even see his own hand in front of his eyes. When it felt as if he couldn’t breathe because the darkness was suffocating him; the sudden pressure that seemed to carve in his chest every time.

The cell´s walls were made of concrete – grey, lifeless and cold. It must have been ages since the last time the room had seen any kind of maintenance for many cracks disrupted the once smooth surface. Sometimes when the prisoner looked long enough he thought that he could make out some kind of patterns. He tried to bring some kind of order into it, because if he did nothing he would turn insane.

There was a tiny bed attached to the wall. It was nothing more than a wooden board with a blanket that had so many holes in it that it wouldn’t do much to conserve any warmth underneath it. The prisoner hadn’t slept on it. He feared that in the moment he would close his eyes the darkness would come and claim him; that he wouldn’t wake up once he had given himself to the sweet temptation that was sleep. He knew that this was a fight that he couldn’t hope to win but it was one he fought nevertheless. Because it was one of the few choices he still had left: sleep or no sleep.

The prisoner laughed. It was an ugly sound. More cough than a laugh – hollow – with no warmth, no emotion. A dead laugh.

How far he had fallen that this was one of the only choices he had still left. Every other choice had been taken away from him. Every choice but one – but he refused to even contemplate it. He still had so much to fight for – so much to lose – and he wouldn’t give it all up. He would continue living.

The prisoner didn’t know how long he had already been imprisoned here. It could have been days, weeks or _months_. There was nothing in his cell that indicated the passing of time. He was pretty sure that the meagre meals he was given were given him in irregular intervals in order to make it impossible for him to discern the length of his imprisonment from it.

He wondered if his friends were still searching for him or if they had already given up on ever finding him. Were they already continuing their lives, sad that they had lost him but moving on nevertheless? Or were they still searching the streets asking around for his whereabouts – only that they would never find him. This place wasn’t accessible for them.

Before the prisoner could continue contemplating the steel door to his cell opened with a loud crack and two guards walked in. The prisoner had to avert his gaze, for the light that suddenly flashed through the door was too bright for his eyes that had been accustomed to the weak cell lighting. Still a little bit dazed the he couldn’t put up much resistance when the two guards suddenly heaved him from the ground and dragged him out of the cell.

When the prisoner looked around he could see that they were in a hallway from which countless other cells branched off. Maybe this was some prisoner tract? Before he could observe any more the guards walked him through the door at the end of the hallway.

What followed was one corridor after another – indiscernible from each other – so that the prisoner gave up on trying to remember the way after a short while. Sometimes they met other guards but the silence that penetrated the whole complex was never broken by something as plain as a greeting.

The prisoner knew that this was the way of these people. Not that he knew much about them, but even as prisoner you noticed some things. And knowledge after all was power.

After a while – the prisoner didn’t know how long – they stopped in front of a door. It was made of pale wood with silver engravings in a script the prisoner had never encountered before. It was elegant and smooth – timeless you could say – and had no edges, no endings which would disrupt the display of pure sophistication. In the middle of the font a silver tree was engraved on the door.

Before the prisoner could take in further details the door swung open and the three walked through it. The room behind was round and austere. There was nothing on the stone walls; no paintings, no windows, nothing. The only thing within was a pedestal in the middle of the room as austere as its surrounding. On top of it was a bowl of silver filled with a clear undefinable liquid.

There was a woman standing behind the pedestal. She was tall – as tall as the prisoner – and excluded an aura of uttermost authority and sophistication. Her long blond hair hung loose and ended above her waist. It looked like threads of gold, framing a face that looked angelic in its beauty. Bright green eyes that seemed to glow from within looked at the prisoner; high cheekbones accenting the small nose and bright red lips that would look sinful on any other woman but on her it looked perfect. Her figure was slim, shrouded in silk so white that it reflected the light from above.

But there was one thing that betrayed the woman´s non-human origin: the pointed ears.

“You can leave,” the woman ordered the two guards. If there was one thing that matched the woman´s beauty than it was the coldness in both her voice and in her gaze that seemed to penetrate the prisoner´s mind and looked down on him like he was nothing more that dirt beneath her feet.

The guards left, closing the door and leaving behind only the prisoner and the woman.

“Now we meet again at the same place like the last time,” the woman commented.

“And like the last time I was dragged here by one of your goons,” the prisoner replied, his voice hoarse from the long time of disuse.

“I must say,” he continued, “that your true from definitely looks better than your human disguise. Although some things always seem to stay the same: You´re still an absolute bitch, Katrina.” The woman – Katrina – just smiled.

“Glad to see that you haven’t lost your edge, Mike,” she said. “I couldn’t have lived without your smart-mouthed quips.” Mike snorted.

“I could have lived without you pretty well,” he quipped at her. “But let´s stop with these courtesies. We both know that we hate each other.”

“I don’t hate you,” Katrina replied. “I never have. It is you that insists on this childish fits of emotions. If you just could overcome the confinements of your human mind you would see that everything I did was for the greater good of every magical being on this world.” At this words pure hatred filled Mike´s eyes.

“’The greater good’?!” he spat. “Everything you did; you did for yourself alone! So don’t come with this bullshit about how altruistic every of your motives are!” Katrina just looked at him in disappointment.

“You still don’t see it, do you?” she asked. “With every moment we do nothing humanity is one step further along on its path to completely destroy everything magical on this earth. They have enslaved your race, nearly destroyed mine and annihilated countless others. If we do not resist now it will be too late. My people won´t see the dawn of this new age, but we will fight so that others may have the chance to.”

“You won´t reach your goal with your methods,” Mike replied. “Hate only breeds hate, you should know that. With every action you take you provoke an even more severe counter-action. There won´t be any winners left if you continue on this path. Our only chance is to change the system from within.”

“Like Harvey did?” Katrina countered.

“Don’t you dare to say his name!” Mike shouted and was about to launch himself at her, but one gesture of Katrina froze him on the spot.

“Don´t you dare,” he repeated weakly as some tears trailed down his cheeks.

“So you´re still not willing to work with me?” Katrina asked.

“After you killed Harvey?” Mike spat at her. “Of course not!”

* * *

 

_Three months ago…_

Mike looked at Harvey, completely stunned.

“Wait, what?” he uttered after a while. He must have misheard, didn’t he? No sane person in the States would hire an unregistered magician. Prejudice, fear and hate were to dominate in society to allow something like that. Besides, it was punishable with several years of federal prison because it counted as crime against the state.

“I said I´ll hire you,” Harvey repeated. “You´re sure you aren’t mentally deficient? Because I thought that I said it clear enough the first time.”

“I´m not mentally deficient!” Mike exclaimed. “I´m just a little bit thrown off that you would hire someone who – according to the official authorities – has ‘no control over his abilities and should therefore be taken into protective custody until such a time where his or her abilities can be controlled and used to support the United States and its citizens.’” Harvey snorted.

“So you read those stupid flyers as well?” he asked.

“Of course I do,” Mike said. “I can´t just simply walk blind in this country, without knowing what the government is up to. But you are deflecting” – Harvey grinned when Mike noticed – “so would you please answer my question?”

“Unlike my fellow citizen,” Harvey started. “I´m not believing this bullshit the government feeds us about uncontrollable magicians and the great danger every one of them not under federal control represents to society. For me, you are just people with very useful talents – talents which are unavailable to me.

One thing to know about me?” he continued. “I like winning. One thing I hate? Losing. So if there is something that prevents me from losing a case – even if its magic – then I will use it. Not so difficult to get, isn´t it?”

“So you just want to use me for something I´ve been born with?” Mike asked further.

“Of course that’s one of the reasons,” Harvey replied. “But not the only one. I thought about hiring you before your little display, because you were still better than nearly every of these Harvard clones out there, but the fights and stress with my boss and the other partners would have cost me too much of my time. Your…talent was just the bit that tipped the balance into your direction.”

“That can´t be all,” Mike was still sceptical.

“There is more,” Harvey admitted. “But for that you would have to take an Oath of Secrecy.” Mike´s jaw dropped. To demand an Oath of Secrecy was something you only did in the direst of situations. It bound a persons’ magic and life to the secret itself and would not allow that said secret would be disclosed to anyone, no matter the circumstances. Mike had heard terrible stories about people who tried to circumvent an Oath. Their very magic had devoured them from within; none of their deaths had been pleasant.

“You aren’t serious, are you?” Mike retorted. “How do you even know what an Oath of Secrecy is? That isn´t something that is propagandised on the government leaflets.”

“The answer to that would fall under that oath as well,” Harvey replied. “If you don’t take it, I´ll simply have to let you work for my until I think you are trustworthy enough. But that will probably take some time.”

Mike knew that he should take him up on that offer. Simply work for Harvey, forget all about the last part of the conversation and if he would be let in on the secret later on he would be pleasantly surprised. Simply let sleeping dogs lie. But Mike wouldn’t be Mike without the drive to want to know everything he could get his hands on. And Harvey was practically dangling it in front of his face waiting for him to catch it.

“What would that Oath entail?” he heard himself asking and he didn’t know if that little smile on Harvey´s face was real or just in his imagination.

 “You´re really sure you want to take one?” Harvey asked.

“First you practically shove it in my face that you know something that is worth taking an oath for and now you´re suddenly asking me if I was sure?” Mike snapped at the man.

“Just wanted to make sure that you knew all the facts,” Harvey responded. “And about the oath: pretty standard actually. Everything you see, hear or feel from the moment you take it you may never relay to a third party – be they living or undead, intelligent or beast – in direct or indirect form.” Mike frowned. That undead part sounded ridiculous. There was no such thing as necromancy – as far as he knew; the same thing with other superstitious notions such as vampires or zombies. The beast part he could understand, there actually were some psychics that could talk with animals.

“You´ll understand,” Harvey added. Mike decided to trust the man and took a deep breath.

“I, Michael James Ross, do hereby swear on my magic that I shall never disclose anything I hear, see or feel from this moment on to a third party – be they living or undead, intelligent or beast – lest my magic consume myself,” he swore. He could feel the magic lacing every of his words with ancient power. It shifted underneath his skin, coiling and falling apart, until it settled again.

When he was finished Mike looked at Harvey and raised an eyebrow at him.

“Now, are you gonna tell me what this secret of yours is?” Mike asked cheekily.

“You asked me why I decided to hire you after your little show of magic,” Harvey started, “and I gave you part of my reasons. But you won´t believe me if I told you the other one, instead” – he held his hand up, forestalling Mike interrupting him – “I will show you.” And with that he led Mike out of the room.

“Donna,” he shouted to the red-haired woman, “I have my associate. Send these Harvard clones home.”

“Where are you going?” Donna shouted after him.

“Undertow,” Harvey shouted back and then they were already out of the room. Mike followed Harvey out of the hotel and through the crowded streets of New York. He nearly lost the man a few times because nothing was more vicious than New York pedestrians or taxi drivers when you got in their way.  

Finally, Harvey came to a halt in a secluded side alley. Garbage cans stood in front of graffiti decorated walls and fire ladders fixed on the walls threw their shadows on the ground.

“I hope you didn’t just lead me here to murder me,” Mike half-joked. “A lot of people saw me leaving with you. You´d be caught within three days at most.” Harvey didn’t pay attention to him instead walking to what seems to be a homeless person sitting in front of the only part of the wall that wasn’t painted with graffiti. The person wore an old coat which probably had been black once but now was in a muddy grey. His or her face was obscured under a hood.

“What do you want?” the homeless asked with a voice that sounded like he had swallowed gravel and grinded it in his throat.

“Entry, sentinel,” Harvey answered. At this point Mike was ready to storm out of the alley and leave those two crazies to themselves but then the man simply knocked at the wall and suddenly the bricks began to rearrange themselves. Mike just stood there – jaw dropped – and watched as an impressive archway formed itself in front of him.

“Close your mouth, it´s unbecoming, rookie” Harvey said as the stones stopped shifting. “Follow me.” Mike did and followed Harvey into the corridor. After ten meters or so he heard a rumbling. He turned around only to observe the brick wall shifting itself back to its original state. With one last rumble the exit was barred and the hallway descended into darkness.

It only lasted for a short while, though, then the walls itself started to glow in a warm blue light which allowed Mike to see Harvey´s form a few meters in front of him.

“You did good,” the man said. “Most people run back and start screaming that they want to be let out.” Then he turned around and walked on, leaving Mike with no choice but to follow him. The corridor seemed endless. And the further they went ahead the more prominent the magic around them became. Mike hadn’t noticed at first, too distracted by everything that had happened, but now he could feel it all around him. It was like a blanket that had wrapped itself around him and kept him warm. He didn’t feel threatened or terrified. He felt…calm and secure. Magic was there and she would protect her children.

Their silent walk gave Mike some time to evaluate everything that had happened. Obviously Harvey wasn’t just a lawyer, but he wasn’t magical either; Mike would have felt it. So how was it, that a mundane seemed to know so much more about magic than he, who had it since birth? And for what did Harvey need him? It had to do something with his magic – Harvey had admitted that right from the start – but in what capacity? Mike knew how to use his magic but he didn’t know much _about_ it. He didn’t know rituals, he didn’t know its history and the most important thing he didn’t know anything about the spiritual side of it.

Mike could affect the physical plain of existence with his magic, but nothing beyond. He couldn’t do the feats that the magicians of old were able to like illusions or mind magic, branches of magic that the governments all over the world had been very throughout in eradicating. So, what did Harvey need him for?

Mike was torn out of his reverie when he bumped into Harvey´s back. He rubbed his head and then looked around the man only to see that there was a canal right in front of them. It wasn’t a sewage drain; it didn’t smell and the water was too clear for it. It left Mike dumbfounded because as far as he knew there were no underground rivers in – or rather – under New York.

“What are we doing here?” he whispered to Harvey, somehow feeling uneasy at the prospect of speaking at normal level.

“Just wait,” Harvey answered. He hadn’t even finished speaking when a gondola appeared out of the darkness from which the canal came. Slowly it floated towards them, making no noise, something that made a cold shiver run down Mike´s spin. He looked to the place where the gondolier should be standing and found himself staring at a little boy.

The kid couldn’t be more than six. He was of black skin; his eyes brown and his cheeks still chubby as you expected it from a child that age. He wore a white nightgown that went down to his naked feet.

Mike looked to Harvey – his face probably an expression of uttermost confusion – but the man simply fumbled with something in his pocket. When he found what he had been searching for he threw it to the boy who caught it with trained ease. Mike couldn’t see what it was, but it had sounded like something metal – coins maybe?

“Come on, Mike,” Harvey said and stepped on the boat.

“Ehm, Harvey,” Mike started, “that whole thing here reminds me a little bit of ancient Greek saga. You are sure that you don’t led us straight in the underworld? I´m too young to end up in Tartarus.” The boy smiled at that and it made Mike shift uncomfortably with how eerie that whole picture looked.

“I promise you that I won´t lead you into the underworld,” Harvey deadpanned and indicated for Mike to simply step on the boat, which he did. “And it worries me how you assume that you would land in Tartarus if it were so.” Again, the boat moved without making a sound.  

“So,” Mike began, “When are you gonna tell me where we are going?”

“You´ll see it soon,” was all that Harvey said and by the big grin sporting on his face Mike had the feeling that he loved to give the impression of mysterious Dumbledore. Not being able to stand the silence that descended soon afterwards Mike turned to the boy who was steering the gondola with ease.

“So…,” he started awkwardly. “Who are you – and are there more of you?” The boy turned to him, still the serene smile on his face and Mike just wanted to take it back because it was just too creepy.

“We are the orphans of this city,” the boy explained, the smile never leaving his face. “We have been lost and forgotten by all the dwellers above. We wandered these realms until we came here and now we make sure that no one else will ever be lost and forgotten like we were.” Mike took a few steps back. That was not what he had expected. He was about to comment on the child´s disturbing answer when he heard a faint noise in the distance which became louder by the second. It sounded familiar to Mike.

“That´s gonna be fun, rookie,” Harvey said. “It´s the best part of the journey.” And then Mike suddenly knew where he heard that noise before. It was from a documentary about the Niagara Falls.

“You´re kidding me, aren’t you?” Mike panicked. Harvey just stood there and smiled. The noise became louder and now Mike could see the waterfall.

“We have to turn around!” Mike exclaimed. “I´m too young to die. I just got a job!” Harvey´s smile just grew wider and then the gondola had reached the edge of the waterfall. Mike closed his eyes.

A few moments later he was still alive, so Mike decided to open his eyes. To his surprise the gondola hadn’t plunged them all into certain death. No, it was simply floating forwards as if the waterfall wasn’t even there. Mike looked back and saw the water cascading down to the ground he couldn’t see.

They were in a gigantic cave. The canal from which they had come was nothing but a tiny hole in a wall of black rock that stretched so high that Mike could see neither the ceiling nor the ground. The gondola was just floating in the darkness, slowly creeping forwards, steered by the child that turned a knowing look at Mike.

“You´re looking in the wrong direction,” Harvey commented. Mike turned around and the sight he was met with filled him with wonder and awe. A city stretched out in front of him. It looked like the skyline of New York only that the buildings were all looking like they were made of alabaster. They glowed from within and repelled the darkness that was otherwise predominant within the gigantic cave they were in. Mike could see a building akin to the Empire State Building only that on its top a pulsating ball of golden light was floating from which a gigantic sphere – encompassing the whole city – sprung forth. Every window was lit and helped to illuminate the whole city. All around him Mike could see other gondolas slowly floating towards the city, each steered by a child in white nightgown.  

Mike looked at Harvey and could see the same awe and wonder mirrored in his eyes.

“Welcome to Undertow.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this is the continuation of my One-Shot "Follow Your Story". In case you didn´t know, every instalment and chapter of my 'Imaginarum' series is named after a song from the two Nightwish albums 'Imaginaerum' and 'Imaginaerum - The Score'. The perfect music to write fantasy to. 
> 
> I don´t know how long this will be and I don´t know when and how often I´ll update. If there is no real interest, I´ll take it down again.
> 
> The story will take place in Undertow with its magical plot and in New York - especially Pearson & Hardman - with its mundane plot (both of which I still have to flash out *shrugs*). 
> 
> Comments are love <3


	2. Undertow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Last chance to back out,” Harvey announced. For one short moment Mike seriously consider it. But then he thought about what would await him if he did: An empty apartment, an unreliable friend and crippling debts. After all he had seen today there was no chance in hell that he would leave it behind to continue his life of hiding who he was. Resolutely Mike walked forward. 
> 
> Song to listen to: ["Undertow"](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wyqCsBMUNdA) by Nightwish.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Say hello to me on [tumblr.](http://goddamnloyalty-suits.tumblr.com/)

With a low rumbling sound, the gondola landed beside a wooden pier which protruded from the land on which the city was standing on into the water that looked black even though the light from the nearby buildings and streets reflected from it. The splashing sound of waves hitting the planks was a constant background noise as Mike looked around in awe.

All around him gondolas were floating, either coming from one of the many openings all around the cave, unloading their passengers who walked on swiftly into the city, or departing empty with only white-clothed children as steersman. And even though there were people all around, the only sound that reached Mike´s ears were coming from the water. It was eerie. Before Mike could ask, Harvey had already jumped out of the boat and was beckoning Mike to follow him. Swallowing down his curiosity, Mike left the boat and followed the older lawyer as he waked over the pier, destination clear in mind.

It happened when Mike was halfway between land and sea; on foot on the paved street, the other still on the wooden pier. Suddenly it felt as if Mike was underwater, a high pressure weighting him down. He moved his other foot, but it was as if time itself was working against him. With agonizing slowness, he tried to move on but his body would not obey him and move faster. And with each passing second the pressure became heavier until it felt as if Mike was shouldering the whole of New York above him. Black spots danced in front of his eyes and Mike started having difficulties with breathing.

It was when Mike felt like he was about to fall unconscious that he felt his second foot touching the ground. As fast as the pressure had come it vanished again. Mike who had not anticipated it, lost his balance and fell on his knees, breathing heavily. 

“What was that?” he asked, his chest still lowering and lifting as his whole body greedily demanded more oxygen.

“You just went through the Great Sphere for the first time,” Harvey answered, who was standing beside Mike, completely unaffected by the turmoil that had crushed over Mike only a few seconds ago. “Its magic has judged you and found you worthy.”

“And what if it hadn’t found me…worthy?” Mike demanded to know as he got his body back under control and stood up from the ground. Now that he was no longer in fear of dying he noticed that the silence, that had been surrounding the piers, had been replaced by the sounds of hundreds of people milling on the street. Merchants clamouring for the attention of the pedestrians, the low murmur of so many conversations, the clacking of shoes on the cobbled road.

“You would have died,” Harvey replied nonchalantly.

“What!?” Mike nearly screamed as he stood up.

“Relax,” Harvey soothed. “I had complete trust in your moral integrity.”

Mike sputtered something in protest, but before Harvey could answer a woman had pushed herself between them.

“You look like you are new here, sweetie,” he crooned in a sweet voice that sent shivers down Mike´s spine. It sounded false. “Let me show you the wonder of Undertow. You´ll never want to leave after that!” While she spoke her breath ghosted over Mike´s face and he had to use every bit of his composure to push down the bile that was rising in his throat. It smelled rotten – _decaying_ – and when Mike saw her yellowish teeth and greased hair he took a step back.

“You won´t do anything,” Harvey warned. The air of nonchalance he had projected just a few seconds ago had been replaced by one of authority. Standing there, his arms crossed and eyeing the woman as if she was nothing more than dirt under his feet, Mike couldn’t believe that there were people stupid enough to refuse him.

“Don’t be such a prude,” the woman admonished Harvey in a playful tone. Obviously she hadn’t noticed the steely glint in Harvey´s eyes and the way his mouth was pressed into a thin line. “Let the boy have some fun for once!”

“Leave or I call the Wardens,” Harvey threatened. The woman´s eyes widened in fear and without another word she scurried away, vanishing in the crowd.

“You!” Harvey said and pointed at Mike. “You will follow me and under no circumstances will you leave my side, am I clear?”

“Crystal-clear,” Mike gulped. Harvey nodded in satisfaction. When Mike stood beside him he started walking, looking beside him every few seconds to make sure that Mike was still beside him.

Mike meanwhile had difficulties with following Harvey. Not because the other man walked so fast, but rather because there was so much around him that it was difficult to take everything in and keep the steady pace that Harvey set.

Undertow looked like a mini-replica of New York, only that the buildings had less floors. Mike could see an Empire State Building, the Trump Tower and in the distance the silhouette of the Brooklyn Bridge. If you weren’t a native New Yorker you could easily confuse it with the real city above. But there was one thing that prevented that: No cars on the street.

It was a strange feeling for Mike, who had spent his whole life in New York, to walk the streets that were so similar to New York but had no cars driving over it. The lack of characteristic noises – honking cars, cursing taxi drivers or wheezing pedestrians that just escaped being nearly run over by an overzealous driver – only added to the impression of ‘otherness’ that penetrated the whole city.

As Mike followed Harvey through the streets, not knowing where they were going, he noticed that the shops around him offered various items that were either banned by the government above or which existence wasn’t known to Mike before. He saw bookstores that offered books on nearly every aspect of magic from using herbs to brew healing potions to old druidic rituals and Mike had to force himself to keep following Harvey. He was really – really – tempted to delve into those shops and to only come out when he had put every word in those books into his memory.

Books weren’t the only items to be sold: There were clothing stores (“Our products are charmed to never get dirty”), electronics (“Our TVs have real 3D!”) and so much more. If this wasn’t some kind of hallucination then he would definitely come back and buy himself self-washing clothes, Mike vowed to himself.

But not only the shops around him rose Mike´s curiosity; the people that walked the streets did so as well. Some of them would have fit into New York with no problems, others not so. Mike saw women clothed into colourful Victorian dresses that would have better fit into the court of Ludwig XII than on the streets. One wore something that Mike couldn’t identify at first: It was a dress in a rich green that would change its colour to bright red every time the wind flared up. When the woman passed by Mike´s jaw dropped as he noticed that the dress was not a dress but rather hundreds of butterflies sitting atop the woman´s skin. Every time the wind waved over them they would flutter with their wings, showing their red underside. Only a not so subtle cough from Harvey tore Mike out of his reverie and he continued walking.

The biggest difference and the most shocking revelation for Mike, though, was the fact that not everyone around him was human. Some of the people around him possessed otherworldly beauty, their complexion without flaw and their steps graceful like a predator. When Mike looked at one of them he noticed their pointed ears.

_Elves_ , he thought and his mind was filled with childish awe. But elves weren’t the only creatures that Mike met on his way. On one intersection they had to wait until an at least five-meter big giant had crossed the street. Every now and then glowing balls of light would fly over his head, leaving behind a trail of glittering dust that slowly dropped to the ground.

Suddenly one of those balls floated directly in front of Mike´s face. Looking at it Mike noticed that what he was looking at wasn’t a ball of light, but a miniature human with big dragonfly wings that emitted some kind of glow. Fairies.

“Hello, little one,” Mike greeted and the little fairy – a female – let out a high-pitched giggle.

“You have beautiful wings,” Mike added and the fairy hid her face behind her hands as a glowing red blush took over her face. It was so sweet that Mike held back the urge to coo at the little being. Thus he was completely unprepared when the fairy propelled itself at him, pulled a hair out of his eyebrows and vanished faster than he could look.

“I was assaulted by a being not bigger than my right hand,” Mike said in bewilderment to an amused Harvey who just stood there with intact –   _and_ _very attractive_ – hair with a smirk on his face.

“Fairies are the most peaceful beings in existence,” he simply stated. “Claiming that they assaulted you is like saying that ready-made suits look good.” Mike, who wore a ready-made suit, took offence to that and was about to support his views, but thought better of it.

“What are we doing here exactly?” he asked Harvey.  “Don’t get me wrong; all this –“ Mike made a sweeping gesture with his hand “– is fantastic and I will be ever thankful to you that you showed me that there is a world beyond the bleak one I live in. But why did you show me – me! – all this?” Harvey took a step forward until he crowded into Mike´s personal space. Mike tried to not let it affect his composure – he failed. Something in the intensity of Harvey´s gaze made his breath go faster and heat rising to his cheeks.

“Look around you,” Harvey said. “What do you see?”

“Houses, streets, people…” Mike recounted.

“Exactly,” Harvey stated. “People. And what is it that all people – no matter what race – like to do?” Without giving Mike the chance to answer he continued. “They like to fight. And what does a normal person need in order to put his own needs and pettiness over other´s? Lawyers. That´s why we´re here.”

“You mean, you´re like a supernatural lawyer?” Mike´s jaw dropped in surprise. “And I can become one as well?”

“I wasn’t only looking for an associate for Pearson & Hardman,” Harvey answered. Mike decided to postpone his freak-out until he was back in his apartment.

“You still haven’t answered me _where we are going_ ,” he added instead, putting extra empathises on the last few words.

“It´s easier to show you than to explain,” Harvey responded. “You´ve followed me – a stranger – into a magical city underneath New York, so you should be able to follow me for another hundreds meter without complaining.” There wasn’t a real response to that, so Mike just kept his mouth shut and nodded. Harvey, obviously satisfied with that, took the lead and guided Mike in one of the lesser frequented streets. He halted in front of an impressive looking building and beckoned Mike to come nearer.

“That´s where I was leading you to,” he said and pointed at the building in front of him. If Mike was to guess, he would say that the structure in front of him was a mixture between a Greek temple and a modern skyscraper. There were four pillars that reached from the ground to the roof of the building and they looked as if someone had stolen them from the Acropolis. Between the pillars was a front mad of glass, that gave the building a modern flair. The roof consisted of a triangle made of stone that nestled atop those pillars. Right in the middle of it Mike could see golden letters: _Defende eos qui se ipsi defendere non possint_.

“Defend those who cannot defend themselves?” he asked Harvey for clarification.

“It´s the motto,” Harvey replied nonchalantly.

“Of what? ‘The League of Supernatural Lawyers’?” Mike joked with a little bit awe in his voice.

“You could say that,” Harvey responded with a dry smirk. “Now, let´s get you in there and registered, so that we can finish this whole business today.” With that he marched forward, Mike trailing behind him. Glass doors parted in front of them and they entered the foyer.

“Wow,” Mike marvelled at the sight that greeted them after they had walked through the door. The hall that laid before him seemed to stretch endlessly in every direction. Mike was sure that it was actually bigger than the whole building. The floor was outlaid with white marble that was so clean that it practically reflected the light from above. The ceiling itself hung at least ten meters above them and displayed a sunny sky. It created an illusion of openness and tranquillity, which Mike liked very much.

“That reminds me of one of the books I´ve read,” he said to Harvey. “It´s about a boy that is told that he´s a wizard on his eleventh birthday and then goes to a magical school that is in a castle in Scotland.”

“That doesn’t sound like something you can buy in Barnes & Nobles,” Harvey remarked.

“Yeah, you´re right,” Mike replied. “The author is a single-mother from England that was fired because she fantasized about magic. She published her work on some internet forums so that it would be more difficult to trace it back to her. She wrote seven books altogether.” For a moment Harvey just looked at him, the emotions behind those brown orbs unreadable, but then the moment vanished and the suave mask was back in place.

“I have meant to ask,” Mike began. Might as well use this moment for a question that was burning in his mind.

“You want to know if I have magic?” Harvey spoke is thought out loud.

“Yeah,” Mike just nodded weakly.

“I wondered when you´d work up the courage to ask,” Harvey smirked.

“Hey, I was kind of busy with this whole ‘yeah, there is a magical city underneath New York’ sprung at me,” Mike defended himself.

“What do you think then?” Harvey asked imploringly. “Do I have magic?”

“The fact that you hired me specifically after you knew that I had magic indicates that you don’t,” Mike reasoned. “But then you led me into a city populated by creatures that I thought only existed in fairy tales, which makes me wonder if you have at least some magic.”

“Sound reasoning,” Harvey commented. “Your first observation was right on spot. I don’t have magic of any kind. I´m as mundane as you can get.”

“And yet we are here,” Mike responded.

“What can I say,” Harvey replied with that arrogant smirk that Mike was getting well acquainted to. “Genius is universal.”

“Harvey,” they were interrupted by the booming voice that seemed to sound throughout the whole hall. Harvey turned around and a small smile crept on his face when he saw the corpulent man waddling towards them. He wore a black smocking, his right hand in a white glove and grasping a black cane. Atop his eye laid a golden monocle and on his white hair rested a cylinder. It reminded Mike of an old English gentleman.

“Richard,” Harvey greeted back.

“Who do you have with you, lad?” Richard asked as he looked at Mike.

“That´s Mike Ross. I chose him to be my Apprentice,” Harvey introduced Mike. “Mike, that’s Richard Magnusson, my former mentor.”

“It´s great to see a new generation of Advocates entering this hall for the first time,” Magnusson boomed and shock Mike´s hand. “I remember Harvey´s first trip to Undertow as if it had been just yesterday. So young and impressionable. Good old times, eh, Harvey?”

“You say it, Richard,” Harvey said with warmth in his voice.

“So,” Richard continued, turning towards Mike. “You´re excited about becoming an Apprentice, boy?”

“Eh, well,” Mike spluttered. “I guess?” Richard looked at his confused expression and then gave Harvey a smack on the back of his head.

“Hey!” Harvey exclaimed.

“Have you told the boy nothing?” Richard questioned.

“I was going to,” Harvey defended himself.

“Oh, sod it,” Richard exclaimed. “You were enjoying the whole thing, weren’t you? The air of mysteriousness and all that?” If Mike´s eyes didn’t betray him then Harvey looked at least a little bit abashed.

“Don’t worry, lad,” Richard said with a kind smile. “All the people around here are Advocates. We are lawyers for the inhabitants of Undertow. Apprentice is a fancy word for associate. And don’t let Harvey scare you, the initiation process isn´t some barbarian blood ritual. The only thing you have to do is to write your name in the Book of Names.”

“Why do I sense an upper case?” Mike asked to which Richard responded with roaring laughter.

“A smart one you got here, Harvey,” he commented. “I leave that explanation to Harvey. He´s your mentor after all.” He turned to Harvey. “Treat that boy right, you understand me? It isn´t often that I like the people you associate with – that Donna is a great one, though. I have to go. The elves of Gilbert Street are involved in another gang war and I have to save their hides from being skinned by some wizards.” And with a flourish of his cylinder Richard walked away.

“So, that was your mentor?” Mike asked.

“Yes, and maybe if you prove yourself to be the sound investment I think you could be I´ll allow you to speak with him again.” 

“But enough with wasting time,” Harvey continued. “I have a function that Jessica forces me to attend. She´ll skin me alive if I embarrass her by coming to late.” Mike didn’t know who this Jessica was but if she could put fear even into the hearts of the likes of a Harvey Specter then she had to be truly formidable. He followed Harvey who led him into an elevator. Harvey pressed the button for the floor he wanted to go to and the doors closed.

“So, what is this Book of Names?” Mike asked curios while he supressed the urge to fidget with his fingers.

“It´s a magical artefact,” Harvey explained. “You write your name in it and you become part of the Advocates. Once you´ve written your name down, it will only disappear in two cases: You are cast out or you die.”

“That sounds like a hell of a commitment,” Mike commented.

“You bet it does,” Harvey replied. The elevator came to a halt and Harvey and Mike stepped out through the doors. The room they entered wasn’t that big with only a reception desk and a door at the other end. Behind the reception desk sat an expressionless looking woman who stared at them with grey eyes.

“Please state your business,” she intoned.

“Harvey Specter, Advocate, here to register one Mike Ross as Apprentice,” Harvey stated.

“Identity confirmed. You are allowed to pass,” the woman said. Then she turned back into her unmoving form.

“A construct,” Harvey explained as he led Mike through the door. “A soulless being made of magic that is programmed for one specific purpose only.”

“They´re creepy,” Mike commented. Harvey just snorted.

The hallway ended in a round chamber. In a table amidst of it laid a book, which Mike presumed, was the Book of Names. To be honest, it didn’t look like much. Just a leather-bound book opened up on an empty page. Right next to the book stood an inkwell with a golden feather lying beside it.

“Last chance to back out,” Harvey announced. For one short moment Mike seriously consider it. But then he thought about what would await him if he did: An empty apartment, an unreliable friend and crippling debts. After all he had seen today there was no chance in hell that he would leave it behind to continue his life of hiding who he was. Resolutely Mike walked forward.

When he closed his right hand around the feather, he could feel a sudden jolt surging through him. His magic summed satisfied underneath his skin as he dipped the feather into the inkwell. For a short moment he let the black stained feather hover over the virgin parchment. Then one stroke after another, carefully and with reverence.

_Michael James Ross_

When Mike finished, his name lit up in golden light for a moment, before it vanished again, leaving behind nothing but an empty page.  

“Welcome to the Advocates, Apprentice Ross,” Harvey intoned formally. Mike couldn’t help but feel that his life would never be the same again.

* * *

“Be at Pearson & Hardman at eight o´clock sharp,” Harvey instructed him as the wall behind them closed again, separating the denizens of Undertow from those of New York. “The work up her will be as demanding as in Undertow.”

“I´ll be there,” Mike confirmed. One firm handshake and the two left in different directions.

“And buy yourself a better suit,” Harvey shouted after him. Before Mike could shout something back, Harvey was already around the corner. Harrumphing – albeit with fondness – Mike made his own way home.

* * *

As Mike laid in his bed, he let the events of today pass by in front of his inner eye. He still couldn’t quite believe it that Harvey had shown him a completely new world – one that was populated by those who possessed magic. Every now and then Mike had had the urge to pinch himself in order to make sure that the whole thing hadn’t just been a very detailed dream. But it wasn’t: He didn’t wake up in his shitty apartment to a stoned Trevor with no way to pay for his and his Grammy´s bills. Undertow was real and that thought filled Mike with a strange sort of happiness and content.

It was like a pressure that he had never realized was on his shoulders had suddenly been lifted. There was a place on earth where Mike didn’t have to fear to show his magic. A place where he could be whole; where he could let go of fear and paranoia that so often had been his constant companions throughout his life. Maybe he just realized it now, but he had never been truly happy. No matter where he went or what he did, Mike had had always to mask parts of him in order to hide himself from those who would be all too happy to cast him aside and betray him if they knew what he could do – if they knew _what he was_.

There was only a such a small number of people that knew him and that he trusted implicitly: His parents had been amongst those, his Grammy, Trevor – and now Harvey. Harvey didn’t care that he had magic, didn’t care that Mike could do things that he would never be able to do. He had taken a look at Mike´s abilities and had judged him worthy and Mike felt somehow proud of himself that it was recognized that he was a being capable of many things without being reduced to just his magic.

Maybe the world wasn’t as bleak as he had previously thought if Undertow and people like Harvey existed, Mike mused.

He was about to close his eyes when he noticed a week glow out of the corner of his eyes. As silent as he was able to Mike stood up and summoned a flame into his open palm. It could be used to scare off any possible burglar – and even more if it really came to it. Tiptoeing through his rooms, careful not to stub his toe anywhere, Mike sneaked through his apartment until he had reached the doorway leading to his little kitchen. Carefully he peaked around the corner, the flame held at chest height, ready to be used against the invader, when a familiar sound reached his ears.

“What are you doing here?” Mike exclaimed, allowing the flames to fade away. Startled by the sudden noise, the little fairy fell into his empty pot that still stood on the stove.  When she flew out of it she floated in front of Mike´s face and going by the red glow around her and the high-pitched wailing sounds, she wasn’t happy with him.

“I´m sorry that I scared you,” Mike apologized and the red glow started to fade. “But I thought you were a burglar.” Another high-pitched sound in the face of such an outrageous claim.

“I know, I know, you aren’t a burglar,” Mike appeased and he wondered to himself when he had exchanged his sanity for the ability to read a fairy´s emotion by their glow.

“Why are you even here?” he asked. “Did you follow me?” At least the fairy had the decency to look a little bit ashamed. “What if someone had seen you?” The last statement was met with an incredulous head-shaking as if the fairy wanted to say that if she didn’t want to be found then nobody would be able to find her.

“I have to bring you back,” Mike said his voice tinted with panic. What if someone thought that he had kidnapped the fairy? He couldn’t have a criminal record in Undertow after only one visit! The fairy – hearing his statement – began to shriek again as her aura turned into a bright red.

“You don’t want to go back?” Mike asked tentatively. The fairy nodded.

“But where will you stay? Here?” Another nod.

“And there is nothing that I can do to dissuade you?” A third nod.

“If there´s nothing I can do, then you can stay – for now,” Mike said. The fairy let out a cry of joy and kissed Mike chaste on the cheek as her aura pulsated in blue.

“You need a place to sleep,” he added as an afterthought.

* * *

Fifteen minutes later and Mike was again laying in his bed. The fairy was sleeping on one of his sweaters that he had put into an open drawer of his bedside table. Only a feint greenish glow betrayed Mike´s new roommate´s existence. It was somehow soothing as the room was no longer as dark as before.

Tomorrow he would start at Pearson & Hardman. After all what happened, Mike couldn’t believe that it would be that difficult. But you never knew.

Mike fell asleep to fairies, elves and to a Harvey in shining armour, brandishing a sword at a menacingly looking dragon.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay, another chapter in which we see more of Undertow. Next time we´ll focus more on the happenings on the floors of Pearson & Hardman. Comments and Kudos are love :)


	3. Dare To Enter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _"And...I also may have a fairy living in my flat now."_
> 
> _"You have what?" Harvey demanded to know._
> 
> _"I have a fairy sharing my flat with me," Mike repeated. "You know, these little, flying humanoids that speak in high-pitched squeals that make your ears hurt?"_
> 
> _"How did you manage that?" Harvey asked._
> 
> _"I don´t know," Mike shrugged. "She hid in my coat when we left Undertow and now she´s sleeping in my drawer."_
> 
> Song to listen to: ["Dare To Enter"](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=w2QbYjCuVQg) by Nightwish.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, nearly one-and-a-half years since the last update. I´m so, so sorry, I really don´t know what happened (/.\\) Anyway, here is the next chapter. I really don´t know when I´ll update again.

The next morning Mike woke from his slumber peacefully like he had never done before. Today a new chapter of his life would begin and he couldn’t wait for it. There was a sense of purpose to him that he had lacked previously and he couldn’t quite fathom how he had made it through his life so far.

He rose from his bed and tore open wide the curtains, allowing the sunlight to stream into his room and turn everything into a goldish glow. An angry shriek from his drawer informed Mike that not every occupant of this room was sharing his enthusiasm for the new day.

“I´m sorry that I woke you,” Mike told the little creature sincerely as it flew up to him and began to scold him in her unrecognizable high-pitched voice. “Do you wanna eat something?” That seemed to make the fairy´s whole anger disappear as it suddenly began to glow in a deep orange. Continuing its inane chatter, it flew towards Mike´s kitchen corner and began to rummage through his pots and Tupperware. When it found Mike´s stash of sugar it let out a scream of joy and threw itself at the jar. With detached amusement Mike kept on looking as the fairy consumed more sugar in a few seconds than what was healthy for even a grown man.

Leaving the little thing to its own devices Mike poured himself some cornflakes and milk into a bowl – which had probably as much sugar in it as the fairy had eaten – and sat down on his coach. Usually, Mike would watch the morning news or some cartoons to start the day but he was too excited to concentrate on anything, let alone some boring morning news.

“You need a name,” he told the fairy absentmindedly when she had finished with her meal and sat herself down on his shoulder, staring at his decrepit TV with wide-eyed enthusiasm. “I can´t keep calling you ‘fairy’ in my mind.” The fairy replied something – probably her name – but like the whole time before Mike didn’t understand a single thing.

“I can´t call you that,” he replied, “I´d destroy my vocal chords trying to get that over my lips. You need a human name I can call you.” He pondered a moment. “Cindy?” A firm headshake was his answer. “Lucy?” He grinned. “Chastity?...Ow!” That little minx had bitten him. “Okay, okay, no Jersey Shore names then.” He fell silent as he continued to think about it. “What about Cassiopeia?” The fairy smiled and her wings turned a deep forest green.

“Cassiopeia it is then,” Mike repeated. “I´ve always wanted to know one. Now I do.” He held out his hand – well, his smallest finger. “Nice to meet you, Cassiopeia.” The newly christened Cassiopeia grabbed his finger with both of her hands and shook it enthusiastically.

Mike was sure this was to be the start of an awesome friendship.

* * *

 The building the law firm of Pearson Hardman resided in was in one of the most expensive and most sought after neighbourhood of Manhattan. Mike had to take a deep gulp as he craned his neck to be even able to see the top of the building which every now and then was obscured by some low flying clouds. Men in tailored suits and women in tight costumes populated the sidewalk, the men wearing expensive watches on their wrists and the women wearing even more expensive jewellery around their necks. Everyone was speaking into their phones, some clearly agitated, others more collected, but what all had in common was the urgency in their steps and the way they held themselves: self-confident, no straying gazes and an aura of sophistication and arrogance around them like only inhabitants of the financial district could.

As if they owned the very air they breathed.

Mike didn’t belong here. Definitely not. He felt completely alien, with his 20 Dollar watch, the unkempt hair and the suit that was probably one or two sizes too big for him. As he stood on the sidewalk and the stream of people parted around him he had this feeling – this paranoia – that they were silently judging him. Casting one wayward glance at him and finding him lacking – not worthy – and that very thought made Mike straighten his posture and put his best poker face in place. He was as worthy of being here as they were, even more so in some cases and he wouldn’t allow any doubt to took take root in his mind.

One last breath and then he stepped into the lobby of the building, careful to avoid running into one of the many stressed people that were streaming through the glass doors. Inside the imposing architecture of the building´s façade continued: Glass, steel and marble – polished until it shone – everywhere you looked and Mike wondered again who possessed that much money to throw away on a lobby. The elevators seemed to be behind the reception and the security desk, so Mike made his way towards them.

"Name?" The guard behind the desk asked Mike, eyeing him critically.

"Mike Ross," Mike replied. "Today´s my first day working for Harvey Specter at Pearson Hardman?" It was more of a question than a statement and Mike wanted to scold himself for sounding so timid, but what was done was done, so no need to antagonise any further about it.

"Ah, here it is," the guard said. "I´m to give you your key card and instruct you 'to never lose it on the pain of death'." He raised an eyebrow at Mike who just shrugged. Trust Harvey to let the security of his workplace do the threatening.

"Name´s Steve, by the way," the guard introduced himself. "Now that you´re working for the slave drivers on the 37th floor I have this feeling we´ll be seeing much of each other in the future." He stretched out his hand, Mike´s key card between his fingers.

"Nice to meet you, Steve," Mike replied, taking the card. For a short moment, their hands touched, their skin connected and suddenly it was like electricity was flowing between them.

_Hearing his dad screaming at his mom in the kitchen, hiding under the covers and hating himself for not being able to defend his mother from his father´s drunken wrath._

_Touching his baby brother for the first time and suddenly feeling everything he felt: Hunger. Thirst. Warmth. Happiness. Joy._

_Staying with his mom and brother at the women´s shelter after she had left dad, fearing that the man would come after them for daring to defy him. Having all these strong emotions clawing at his mind, causing a headache so severe that he couldn’t move anymore. His mother´s worried voice as she sang his favourite song for him._

_Taking this low-paid job as security guard to pay for his mother´s bills and his brother´s college education. David was smart and he would make a great doctor one day and he would make sure that money wouldn’t be something his brother had to worry about._

_The call that their mother had died – killed by their father who had drunk himself into a furry. Harvey Specter taking their case pro bono, claiming that it 'would look good on his portfolio' but he could see behind the lawyer´s façade and knew that it was about compassion and empathy._

The connection broke and Mike nearly stumbled backwards from the backlash if he hadn´t clung to the counter so tightly. His key card fell to the ground. Steve looked at him wide-eyed, his gaze filled with horror and shock.

"What did you do?" He whispered. Before Mike could answer, though, the black man had moved around the counter – he was far more agile than Mike would have thought – and gripped Mike tightly around his upper arm. With a strength and determination that could only come from years working security, Steve lead a dazzled Mike into the nearest empty room, full of cleaning utensils. Mike wanted to say something, but the guard was already pressing him against the wall, his forearm cutting into Mike´s throat.

"What did you do?" He growled again.

"I don’t know," Mike exclaimed. "Look, I really don´t know what just happened, but I promise that I won´t tell anyone!" The pressure on Mike didn’t lessen.

"Why should I believe you?" Steve demanded to know. "What´s gonna make me believe that you won´t snitch me out to MRB?" There was real fear in Steve´s voice now and Mike could understand why he would fear the MRB coming after him. While the laws against latent magic users like empaths weren´t as harsh as they were on magic users like Mike, they still took away much of your freedom. Empaths were often used to work for the police or at court to discern the honesty of witnesses, but using their abilities tired them out fast and not many did make it past fifty years when they were constantly required to use their abilities.

Steve couldn’t risk that, not if he wanted to ever feel at least a little bit secure and so Mike knew what he had to do. To get the other man off his back he needed to give him something of equal value to hold over Mike.

Mike summoned his magic, let it coil around Steve and then he pulled him back hard. Steve, not expecting this, flew across the room and crashed against the wall. Suddenly bereft of the other man holding him up, Mike fell to the ground, finally able to breath again.

"You...you..." Steve stammered, his eyes wide in both amazement and fear.

"Now you know why you can trust me," Mike said as he collected himself from the ground. "You´re not the only one to fear the MRB." He held out his hand to the other man who, after short hesitation, took it and heaved himself up.

"I´m really sorry about...that," Steve said awkwardly. "But, you can at least understand why I had to do it, can´t you?"

"Yeah, I do," Mike agreed. "Ours is a lonely life." Steve didn’t reply anything after that, but Mike knew that his words had rung true. They made their way back in silence, Mike picking up his key card from the ground where he had let it fall down.

"Pearson Hardman´s on floor 37," Steve told him subdued. "Have a nice day." Mike nodded at him and then he continued his way. He didn’t notice how Steve continued staring at his back.

* * *

 The elevator opened to a vast reception area that was dominated by light brown and glass. Lots of it, to be exact. People were hushing around, all looking very important and well off. To his left the lettering 'Pearson Hardman' decorated the wooden wall.

Mike had absolutely no clue where he needed to go.

“Are you Mike Ross?” Mike turned around and was caught in the gaze of a brunette who looked like she would love to be anywhere but here. Her arms were folded and her index finger tapped impatiently on her forearm as she waited for Mike to deny or confirm her question.

“Y-yes?” Mike answered, more question than answer. The brunette´s perfect manicured eyebrows rose a few centimetres.

“Great,” the woman replied unenthusiastically. “I´m Rachel. I´m your guide for today. Now, follow me and I´ll show you everything.”

“Wow,” Mike said thunderstruck. “You´re awesome.”

“Good. You hit on me. We can get it out of the way that I am not interested,” Rachel retorted with bored expression.

“I´m sorry, I-, I wasn’t hitting on you –“ Mike spluttered.

“Trust me,” Rachel explained. “I've given dozens of these and, without fail, whatever new hotshot Harvard associate it is thinks that because I'm just a paralegal, that I will somehow be blown away by his dazzling degreene. Let me assure you, I won't.”

“I was,” Mike uttered as if a very important revelation just had taken place.

“Mh-hm,” Rachel hummed.

“I was hitting on you,” Mike repeated and he felt somehow bad. It was just his normal response to attractive people.

“You were,” Rachel commented, completely oblivious to Mike´s inner turmoil. She handed Mike a notepad and a pen and continued: “Take notes. I´m not gonna repeat myself.” Then she walked away without bothering to wait for Mike.

“The faculty operates on a chain of command model,” Rachel started to explain when Mike finally caught up with her. “Harvey is your commanding officer, however, Louis Litt, he oversees all the Associates, so you´ll answer to him.”

“And what do you think about Harvey?” Mike asked, genuinely curious about Rachel´s opinion of the man. Rachel just gave Mike a ‘really’ look.

“People are in awe of him,” she said as she led him down the hallway. “They say he´s the best closer there is, but I have little contact with him, so I don’t know.”

“What about Louis Litt?” Mike continued prodding, evading a group of paralegals that were walking down the hallway, laughing and cheering at each other. Rachel stopped and Mike would have nearly run into her, but caught himself just in time.

“Let´s just continue with our tour, shall we?” she asked and her smile was all teeth. Mike just nodded, his voice temporarily leaving him. Rachel led him through the hallways, chattering on about the firm until she turned around a corner and threw open the doors leading to a spacious room which was filled with cubicles behind which others were furiously working. Rachel took the aisle in the middle until they stood in front of an empty cubicle.

“And, finally, this is where you´ll live,” she said and made a grand flourish gesture towards the conception.

“Wow,” Mike replied unenthusiastically. Rachel, though, eyed the still empty notebook and glared at him.

“I gave you that for a reason,” she said. “You haven’t taken a single note.”

“It´s because –“ Mike was about to say that he didn’t need to take down notes anyway, but Rachel didn’t allow him to finish his sentence.

“Because you were too busy ogling me to listen to a word I´ve said?” Now Mike was a little bit angry. He was not that shallow that he would neglect his work ethics over some pretty piece of skin. Rachel may think that she was the best that someone like him had seen in his whole life, but Mike could name a few others that played way above Rachel´s league.

“Paralegals' offices anchor the wings. 5th floor research, six is security. All work gets documented, even if it´s finding an address. I answer to Harvey and Louis Litt, judging by the way you responded to my questions, I should admire Harvey and fear Louis. You have been here for five years and just because I outrank you doesn’t mean I have the authority to command your services. Oh, it's also pretty clear that you think you're too smart to be a paralegal.”

“You know what nobody likes?” Rachel asked with pursed lips. “Nobody likes a show-off.”

“You used the word ogling, I mean –“ before he could even finish his sentence, Rachel had left him just standing there and exited the room. Mike let out a sigh, set down and wondered what he was supposed to do now.

He was soon unburdened from this worry as the phone in his cubicle began to rang.

"Hello?" Mike answered, more question than statement.

"Great, you´re here and not in prison or something," came Harvey´s secretary's voice ('Donna,' Mike´s mind reminded him). "Harvey needs you in his office."

"I don´t actually know where his office is," Mike admitted.

"The only office that has me sitting in front of it," Donna quipped and hung up.

* * *

 Mike needed five minutes to find Harvey´s corner office, which was empty when he arrived.

"Harvey isn´t here," he remarked to Donna.

"I know," she replied.

"Then why did you call me here?" Mike asked. Donna looked up from her screen: "Because he´s in a meeting with Jessica where she´s admonishing him about some shit he pulled off. She´ll give him some work – probably a pro-bono – to punish him for it and he´ll lay it off on you." Mike stared at her, jaw wide open.

"How do you know that?" He asked.

"I know everything," Donna replied haughtily. Mike wondered if Donna, too, was a latent magic user, but he decided not to pursue that line of questioning. "Just sit down on the couch and, for God´s sake, don´t touch anything. Especially his balls." Mike raised an eyebrow at her. "Keep your mind out of the gutter. What are you, sixteen?" Mike just saluted to her and stalked off.

* * *

 Like Donna had predicted, Harvey entered his office five minutes later with a file in his hand which he subsequently threw at Mike who caught it with ease.

"Your first case," Harvey told him casually as he sat down behind his desk.

"Awesome," Mike exclaimed. It may be just a punishment for Harvey, but for Mike this would be his first case as real lawyer, his first chance at making a difference for someone. "What is it?"

"Pro bono," Harvey replied, "Sexual harassment. Don´t tell anyone I laid it off on you and don’t screw it up."

"Got it," Mike said as flickered through the file. "You can´t handle it?" He stood up. "I´ll knock it out of the park." Harvey looked at Mike as if he had lost his mind.

"Easy, Clarence Thomas, just go and meet the client," he told Mike. "And didn’t I tell you to get some better suits?"

"I´ve spent 500 bucks!" Mike exclaimed indignantly.

"For how many suits?" Harvey asked.

"Five," Mike answered, which made Harvey´s expression look like he had just killed a puppy in front of the older lawyer. "And...I also may have a fairy living in my flat now."

"You have what?" Harvey demanded to know.

"I have a fairy sharing my flat with me," Mike repeated. "You know, these little, flying humanoids that speak in high-pitched squeals that make your ears hurt?"

"How did you manage that?" Harvey asked.

"I don´t know," Mike shrugged. "She hid in my coat when we left Undertow and now she´s sleeping in my drawer."

"Aw," Donna cooed over the intercom.

"Not now, Donna," Harvey snapped back, which just made the red-head giggle before she turned back to her work. Turning back to Mike, Harvey continued speaking.

"Faeries aren´t the most trusting creatures," he explained. "Neither do they take easily to the presence of humans. What they do like, though, is magic. Yours must be pretty strong if one of the small folk deigns you worthy enough of her companionship." He doodled something on the papers in front of him. "I don´t have to spell out the dangers of having a magical creature living with you?"

"I´m not stupid," Mike replied.

"I would have guessed differently going by your choice of suits," Harvey teased. "Now, off you go. Win me a case so that I can rub it in Jessica´s face."

* * *

 The case was about a woman who had reported her boss to HR for sexual harassment and got fired two months later. Mike got all necessary information from her, let Harvey on his progress _("I´m not about caring, I´m about winning.")_ and he even got a promising strategy for the case which led to him making himself ready to call it a day when Rachel entered the bullpen.

“Mike, what are you doing?” she asked him with raised eyebrows.

“Um,” Mike stammered, “it´s 6:30, I´m going home.” Rachel continued to look at him for a few seconds, then she started to laugh.

“Okay, what´s so funny?” Mike asked confused.

“You´re a rookie associate,” Rachel told him. “If you go home before nine on your first week, you´re not gonna make it through your first months.” Mike sighed. “And Louis Litt wants to see you.” She began to walk away.

“Hey, can I ask you something?” Mike called after Rachel.

“Mm-hm,” Rachel hummed and turned around.

“This tie,” Mike started and held up the piece of cloth he was wearing around his neck. “Is it too skinny?”

“Yeah,” Rachel whispered.

“Man…” Mike whispered dejectedly. As Rachel walked away, he put his bag pack in his cubicle and made his way towards the office of Louis Litt.

* * *

 Mike´s grandmother had always taught him to not judge people after their appearance, but it was difficult not to judge the bald man sitting across from him while he stared at Mike for an uncomfortable amount of time. Louis was sending out such creepy vibes that Mike feared the man was about to do something very inappropriate to him if someone didn’t break the ice very soon. Finally, Louis broke the awkward silence.

“I know you had orientation from Rachel,” he started and Mike wondered where this was supposed to be going. “But I wanted to give you a special welcome from me. Amongst other things, I´m sort of the disciplinarian of the Associates.” It was at this moment that someone knocked at the office door and entered the room. It was a guy around Mike´s age, with sandy blond hair, lithe built and a smile that would make every grandmother swoon.

“You wanted to see me?” the guy asked.

“Yes, Gary, please come in,” Louis replied and beckoned for the other to come nearer. “Mike, this is Gary Lipski. Gary´s one of our most promising Associates from last year.” Mike stood up and shook Gary´s hand. “Hi.”

“Gary, Ms Pearson wanted me to ask, have you completed the Petrensko filling?” Louis demanded to know and his eyes took on a gleeful glint.

“Oh,” Gary stuttered. “Well, my brother was in over the weekend so I didn’t really get to it.”

“I mean, Gary, come on,” Louis said and his smile was downright scary. “This is, like, the third time I´ve had to ask.”

“I´ll get right on it!” Gary exclaimed with forced enthusiasm.

“Don´t bother, you´re fired,” Louis said while carefully looking at his nails.

“What?” Gary screeched. “Y-y-you can´t fire me!”

“Oh, yes, I can,” Louis replied seriously. “And I just did. Go pack up your things. And don’t you ever show your face in this place again.” Gary hung his head and Mike believed to hear some supressed sobs as the man made his way out of the room. When the door locked behind, Louis instantly turned back towards Mike who had to supress the urge to squirm under Louis scrutiny.

“See,” Louis began. “I arranged for you to see that because we offer students the opportunity for advancement, but in return we expect results. Have I made myself clear?”

“Yeah,” Mike replied a little bit confused.

“Great,” Louis beamed at him. “Welcome to Pearson Hardman.” An awkward silence ensued. “Feel free to go back to work.”

* * *

 When Mike came back to his apartment, he did so exhausted and completely wrung out. He would have never thought that being a lawyer was this much work. TV shows and Harvey definitely made it look much easier than it actually was. Maybe you just needed to be Senior Partner, so that you could lay off your work on your poor, already overworked Associate.

He threw his keys in the bowl next to the door. Apparently, the sound alarmed Cassiopeia to his presence, as she flew out of his bathroom (Mike wondered what she had been doing there) right towards him and began chatting at him in her high-pitched voice.

“Hello to you as well,” Mike greeted the little creature as he got rid of his shoes and coat. “How´s your day been?” He didn’t understand anything, of course, but he imagined that Cassiopeia told him of all the dust bunnies she had found underneath his various furniture and the slice of Pizza Trevor had thrown around when Mike had moved in and which had gotten mysteriously lost around somewhere, never to be found again.

“I bought you some honey,” Mike told Cassiopeia. “The really, really expensive one, without any chemicals.” The fairy´s glow took a deep pink colour as she flew around excitedly. Mike popped open the cap of the honey and squeezed a small helping on a saucer, watching with an amused smile as Cassiopeia began to devour the sweet substance.

The ringing of his mobile tore Mike out of his reverie. He looked on the screen of the device: It was a message from Harvey.

_Meet me at the Entrance, tomorrow at nine._

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and Kudos are love <3


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